Eastern European Escapades Eventually Ending Exhausted.

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Whoever said that the east of Europe is catching up with the west at a rapid rate was singularly on his own expressing this opinion.... we arrived in Prague last Saturday night. For booze mentalists and stag weekenders this journey has seemingly become the road to el dorado. Quite frankly the place is full of drunks and whores. To put it mildly.... and truthfully. There are places of interest and there is plenty to do, but I'm of the inate belief that a city as overrun with casinos, strip joints and brits is in a state of terminal freefall, although the rooms at the holiday inn were very pleasant..... and they have good taste in cured meats.

So after a few days in 'fabulous' Praha, it was all aboard the Night Train to Budapest. Not being the most seasoned traveller, I had little to no experience of long haul train journeys. Crucial error. As soon as most police on these trains realise you are English or even have a modest incling of 'foreign' in your blood, they tend to treat you with the same regard that Russians used to treat Rasputin's Whores (in my imagination anyway). I think in total we had 6-7 passport checks on the way to Budapest. I don't think it was just brutal 'Red' efficiency coming into play, but the fact that i'm welsh and I look German meant that they instantly thought I was a prick out to cause trouble, steal secrets and sing 'The green green grass of home' (although perhaps not all at the same time). If i'd done that they'd have packed me off to Zippo's circus... As a result, during the 11 hour train journey i managed to cram in a massive total of 8 minutes actual sleep. Happy Days.

Arriving in Budapest, tired, with no money and only the most basic grasp of gesturing in an over the top European way is not an enviable place to be. But after working out the tram system with my best gesturing and 99% guesswork we ended up in the middle of Budapest. The new bit - is that Buda or Pest?.

Having never clumped a big heavy backpack around with me ever, well certainly not since that ill-fated military tour of eskdale in Kings School, I didn't realise how pissed off with the world you become. so in order to alleviate this i trod on the foot of a tramp who was shouting in my face. As he was backing away clearly scared of my power, I realised he was the spitting image of Oliver Reed, THEREFORE: breaking news Oliver Reed is alive and well and drunk in Hungary... or perhaps people knew that all along!

As a rule i'm a a cautious, tentative person. The real me only comes out after a night out at my favourite local hotspot 'The Tivoli' and liberal amount of vodka has found its way doen the back of my neck. Therefore I was frightened to my core when my travelling companion suggested we ask around for private room to stay in (this being the same travelling companion that asked the following question - "so, how do you milk a bird?"). I had visions of being put up in an iron maiden and being forced to drink shots of mercury and schapps as punishment for being a wussy english traveller. Fortunately my fears didn't manifest themselves and we ended up staying with a lovely student, who got me absolutely destroyed on my birthday. In 10 years i promise i'll look back with fondness about how terrifying that hangover was.

If you're easily offended please do not Read in between the asterisks:





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Give or take the funniest thing that happened to us whilst we were in Budapest, happened on our last day. Rachel, who i was travelling with happens to be a very beautiful lady. So we're sitting in a park passing time before our train is about to leave. I'm chilling, eating a big mac - how classy and cultured I hear you holler, and Rachel is lying down with an intimately short skirt on.

As we're sitting down, i notice a man with quite extraordinary hair encircle us once or twice. It was matted with various shades of shit in it. Quite literally. It looked like a latte at the very moment you stir it. The guy was clearly a tramp and I just dismissed any particular thought about him. He went and sat on the grass and just proceeded to stare at rachel's skirt. I decided it would be best just to ignore this dirty filthy perv and listen to the strollers on the 'pod.

A couple of minutes later I saw the guy get up and walk to a row of bushes in the park that we were in. I just couldn't believe what he started to do next. He just dropped his pants and started to have a massive relief session into the bush - it looked like he was entering a bell ringing competition (excuse the euphemism, I appreciate its a family show). I'm laughing my head off, when I realise that this is, give or take, the most disgusting thing I have ever seen. So I scream over to this guy in the universal language of 'oi what the fuck are you doing'. Starled, our friendly tramp doesn't even bother to pull his trousers up and just runs away from the scene of the crime.

But wait - everyone knows how hard it is to even move when your pants are by your ankles. Guess the comedy moment coming right up!!!! Yep, you guessed it!!!! Terry the tramp took about 3 gingerly paces and then BOOOM, stacked it and toppled straight over onto his boner. Cue absolute unbridled laughter from me including almost pissing myself and choking.

I suppose the moral of the story. Don't take a fit girl to a park? :-)






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Personally I thought Budapest was stunning. It's beautiful and it's not full of terrors like me. Something gives me the distinct impression though that this will not be the case for very much longer. I've got a feeling that ol' Stelios if he hasn't done so already will turn this historic cultured city into some kind of amalgamation of Bristol and Wrexham on a Saturday night. Nice then. Get there whilst it's hot and fresh and new - in the funky sense. BTW Students - get to the students union for a cheap jagermeister and coke, taking in the baroque surroundings,

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